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Remembrance, Prologue

Remembrance, Prologue

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Published by blacksheep17
A Twilight Fanfiction

If there were such things as soul mates, then there are such things as past lives. And when Edward Masen became a vampire, his immortal soul became one with his body. But what of his soul mate? While he lives forever, her soul wonders from body to body, bound by the ties of mortality, always searching and never finding. Alone every single lifetime. After 108 years of solitude, he meets those brilliant chocolate-brown eyes for the first time -- again. Finally.

For more: http://marjorie16.livejournal.com/
Anonymous posting is allowed there.
A Twilight Fanfiction

If there were such things as soul mates, then there are such things as past lives. And when Edward Masen became a vampire, his immortal soul became one with his body. But what of his soul mate? While he lives forever, her soul wonders from body to body, bound by the ties of mortality, always searching and never finding. Alone every single lifetime. After 108 years of solitude, he meets those brilliant chocolate-brown eyes for the first time -- again. Finally.

For more: http://marjorie16.livejournal.com/
Anonymous posting is allowed there.

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Published by: blacksheep17 on Apr 07, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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06/17/2009

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Title:
Remembrance
Author: marjorie16Fandom:
Twilight
Summary:
If there were such things as soul mates, then there are such things as pastlives. And when Edward Masen became a vampire, his immortal soul became one withhis body. But what of his soul mate? While he lives forever, her soul wonders from bodyto body, bound by the ties of mortality, always searching and never finding. Alone everysingle lifetime. After 108 years of solitude, he meets those brilliant chocolate-brown eyesfor the first time -- again. Finally.PROLOGUEI woke from the pain of my head. It was a stabbing searing pain. Like a car had just ranover me. I touched my head lightly, trying to soothe the pain. At first, I couldn’tremember anything. What happened to me?But just as I started to wonder, I realized that I was on a bed. It’s not
my
bed. But then, Ifelt a curious sense of knowing that this was mine. It looked like the bed of a princess.Four poles at each corner, lined with frilly see-through cotton candy-colored fabric. Notat all my type, so this can’t be mine.Where was I?Maybe I had been kidnapped. But then, that implied that I should have remembered beingkidnapped, and I couldn’t. I tried to search my head for some reason to make everythingsensible. I rolled off the bed, and just as my feet touched the carpeted floor. I gazed downat myself.Oh. This is not me.I was wearing a … well, not a gown exactly. It was, like my bed, frilly. Like a night gownstraight from the nineteen hundreds. It was white, very chaste, very big and spacious. Ithad long sleeves and, oh my, I’m not wearing anything underneath it! That is not right.Where am I?I panicked.
 
I suddenly stood up, not knowing where I was. The walls were lined with a pale shade of  blue-green. The floor was carpeted in a very intricate pattern of flowers and birds. Allaround me, the furniture was painted in white. The chairs were foamed. It seemed thatthey were all antiques. Old styles. And yet, they all looked new.I ran to the nearest door.It was the bathroom. But it wasn’t like any bathroom. Not like
mine
, anyway. Not like
any
I had ever seen. But then, those little details paled to insignificance when I saw theimage of myself in the mirror.I was not
me
.I looked the same, yes. But I knew that this was not Bella Swan.
 I 
was not Bella Swan. Inmy mind, I was thinking like Bella Swan. But physically, this was not me. I lookedexactly like a character in a Historical novel.My hair was short and wavy. Dark-brown just like I remembered having. My face, stillheart-shaped. My eyes, still that chocolate-brown shade. But then, I knew within the coreof my being that I was Bella Swan, but then, this girl in the mirror, this stranger. Shelooked exactly like me. Not like we just happened to have the same color eyes. But like,exactly the same eyes. Exactly the same face.A loud knock brought me out of my reverie.“Miss. Isabelle?” the woman said. “Miss. Isabelle, are you in there?”Isabelle?I’m not Isabelle. My name is Isabella Swan. I’m Bella.I just knew that I have never heard that voice. Or that name. That was why it was sostrange when I heard myself say, “Yes, Mrs. Potts. I’ll be out in a minute.”Somehow, I knew that she
was
Mrs. Potts. I knew that she had raised me since I was four.
 
That she was, in more ways than one, my mother. That was strange because I knew alsothat my mother was Renee and my father was Charlie Swan. But then, a flood of memories coursed through me. And they told me that my mother is somewhere in thehouse, probably having breakfast with my father, Governor. Charles Harte.This is getting weird. This is getting
really
weird.I was not sure if I consciously decided to go out of the tiny bathroom, but I dideventually. The woman, so familiar, was wearing a pale blue dress-gown. I have no ideawhat to name them, only that I knew that style was in vogue a century ago.“Miss. Isabelle, you look like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed!” Mrs. Pottsexclaimed. “Here, let me dress you.”And she did. Without any warning she started pulling my night dress off through thelength of my raised arms. And then, choosing this conservative yellow dress. I was tooconfused to say a word.“Today, you turn seventeen, Miss. Isabelle. Perfect age! Ripe for marriage. And your father has prepared very well.”“Is there a costume party, Mrs. Potts?”She giggled at my obvious frown. “Your party won’t start ‘til tonight. I already showedyou your attire for later. You told me you loathed it. But I knew it was as good a commentas I was going to get.”“I did?” Looking down, I tried to remember that last thing that happened before wakingup here. Umm… There was a car. And me. The car hit me?“What’s wrong with you today, Miss. Isabelle?”Today? “What day is it?”“Goodness, child,” she cried out. “It’s the thirteenth of September.”

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